


shortie

by maketea



Series: fictober 2019 [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Humor, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: ladybug wants to spite her boyfriend for making fun of her height.long story short, it doesn’t end well.





	shortie

**Author's Note:**

> fictober day 6: “yes, i’m aware. your point?”

“Give it back, Chat Noir, I have to go!” 

He leapt onto the brick wall behind him without so much as looking up from Ladybug’s yo-yo. “I just want to take a few pictures— oh, wow, did you take a mirror selfie in a shop window?”

Her cheeks coloured deeply. “I looked good!”

“You  _ certainly _ did.” Chat Noir ogled it, clearly pleased, only coming to when Ladybug hauled herself onto the brick wall, too. He jogged into the grass. “I’m curious, now! What top secret Ladybug content is there on here?”

Frankly, a fair amount: nonsensical akuma notes, a few too many photos of herself, and an embarrassing high score on the only game that a Miraculous dating back to ancient China could support — tetris. (Chat Noir was late to patrol sometimes, and Ladybug got bored).

But what worried her the most was the shrill alarm set to ring at any moment, the one that would flash up great white letters reading  _ MEET ALYA AT TROCADERO! DON’T BE LATE! _

“Give it  _ back!” _

Ladybug sprinted up to him and lunged forward, but he slinked away, leaving her stumbling into the grass. 

He made a face at her yo-yo. “Why do you have a closeup of your forehead?”

“I was fixing my fringe!” She pushed herself to her knees and wiped the grass stains from her cheek. “Stop snooping around, there are personal things on there!”

“But I’m  _ so  _ curious.”

From the ground, Ladybug watched him flick through her photo gallery, lip bitten cheekily. 

Then, his face changed.

Chat Noir’s eyes widened, and he let go of his lip to open them both just a little, like he needed enough room to take in one tiny breath. He stayed like that awhile, before slowly, he began to smile a different sort of smile.

“God.” Ladybug got to her feet and stalked up to him. “Now what is it?”

His smile didn’t drop when he glanced up at her, but he did shut the yo-yo. If she didn’t know any better, Ladybug would’ve held out her hand for it — but Ladybug  _ did _ know better, which is why she kept her arms crossed as she walked up to him, and wasn’t the least bit surprised when he held her yo-yo high above her head.

One look at where her yo-yo was, and Ladybug knew she had lost.

Sometimes, like when Chat Noir leaned down so she could kiss his cheek, Ladybug wondered if he was simply too tall, or if she was simply too short. She didn’t really know where she fell on the spectrum of tall and short — those sorts of things never really mattered, considering she had a superhero costume that did all the heavy lifting for her.

But right now, it mattered, because Chat Noir had her yo-yo so far above her she considered turning on her heel and detransforming without it. Inevitably, it’d just disappear with her costume. She considered it. She considered it much longer than she should have. 

The prospect of the alarm, however, stopped her.

She narrowed her eyes at the yo-yo. It was enclosed in his black fist, and his claws proved useful in maintaining a firm grip. None of the string hung out, and he even had his hand titled back so she’d  _ really _ have to reach for it.

So Ladybug did what any superhero would do: she jumped for it.

The first time, she missed by a lot. The second time, she missed by a quite a bit. The third time, her fingers grazed the inside of his wrist, but no matter how low she bent her knees and how deep of a breath she took, there was no way she could get farther than that. Still, that didn’t stop her trying. She hopped around in front of Chat Noir, standing on the very tips of her toes and straining all her muscles to reach for her yo-yo.

Her dignity had taken a back seat a long time ago.

“Oh my God,” Chat Noir chuckled, looking down at her, “You’re so short.”

“I’m perfectly average for my age!” She hopped again. The force with which she swiped for her yo-yo nearly made her smack him in the face.

“Oh, My Lady. My little Ladybug. You’re so adorable.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“It’s all apart of my charm.” 

Chat Noir, with one arm still stretched up, tapped his mouth wordlessly. 

Ladybug rolled her eyes.

She leaned up — he was nice enough to stoop just a bit — and pressed an unhappy, capitulating kiss to his lips. As soon as he brought his arm down, she snatched her yo-yo out of his hand and opened it.

On the screen already was a picture of the two of them getting ice cream, Chat Noir wiping chocolate sauce off her cheek with the back of his finger. She saved it when it first surfaced on the Ladyblog — the first public photograph of them as a couple. By 2PM that day, it has been reteweeted, reblogged, and reposted so many times, she didn’t even need to open her gallery to see it, anymore.

“It’s the only picture in your favourites,” he said softly.

She smiled at her screen. “Yeah. I like looking at it.”

To anyone else, it might not have been spectacular. Two kids dressed in superhero costumes on an ice cream date — so what? There was hardly anything groundbreaking about that.

Except she still remembered exactly how it felt to have Chat Noir wipe that spot off sauce away from her cheek, and that itself was enough for her to cherish.

She closed her yo-yo, brought it to her side, then kissed him again — nicely, this time. 

“See you, shortie,” he said.

“Stop that.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Ladybug liked  _ My Lady. _ She could even deal with  _ Bugaboo. Bug _ nor  _ LB _ came up frequently enough for her to have an opinion, but she supposed she’d be neutral.

But Ladybug absolutely would not accept  _ shortie  _ as a nickname. 

Tikki was unsure when Marinette told her her plan. She had a point — it wasn’t one of the most practical ideas at all. But Marinette insisted — with persuasions, reassurances, and the power of oven-baked cookies — until finally, Tikki conceded, on the grounds that if anything went wrong, she’d revert it immediately.

Thanks to Tikki, Ladybug approached Chat Noir in seven-inch, polka-dotted heels. 

“My Lady,” he said, then his eyes trailed down. “Those are… new.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Her heels clicked up to him. Before the ground got too uneven, Ladybug dragged herself up to the boarded up restaurant behind him and balanced herself against the wet planks. “Your point?”

Chat Noir shrugged. “Nothing. They look good.” His eyes lingered on her legs for a moment. Sandwiched between the weight of her upper body and the elevation of her heels, they were trembling. “Very good, in fact.” He grinned.

“And?”

“Well… aren’t they a little impractical?”

“Of course not.” She let go of the planks, and, like a staggering foal, tried keeping herself upright. “I can fight in whatever I wear.”

“Even in six inch heels?”

“They’re seven-inch, actually.” She reached out for his arm, and held on tightly. “I’m the same height as you. Did you know most supermodels are this height?”

“You could already be a supermodel, My Lady,” he said, and walked her up to the alley.

It had rained the night before, and it became more apparent by the time they arrived. Slippery cobblestone and platform heels didn’t make a good team, but what made Ladybug gulp was the rooftop. She tilted her head back and stared. It wasn’t the highest rooftop in Paris, and it certainly wasn’t the highest rooftop Ladybug had jumped, but the shingles would still be wet, and the idea of steadying herself on a slick, slanted rooftop that evening made her breath come short.

“Need any help?” Chat Noir asked, extending his stick.

Hesitantly, she released his arm and untied her yo-yo from her waist. “I’m fine.”

He went up first, and as soon as his head disappeared behind the peak of the ridge, Ladybug inhaled deeply, swung her yo-yo up to the chimney, and towed herself up. The wind sliced across her face, and, though barely, she made it.

Ideally, Ladybug would have tightrope-walked along the ridge and met with Chat Noir, who had taken perch near the middle. But the rooftop was just as slick as she expected, and she was all but embracing the chimney her yo-yo was wrapped around to stop herself falling. 

He sighed, stood up, and sat beside her, instead.

“You know,” he said, wiping some rainwater off his stick and onto his thigh, “I’ve been wanting a leather jacket for ages, but Plagg just won’t give it to me.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Why a leather jacket?”

“You don’t want a punk rock boyfriend?”

“My boyfriend runs around Paris in a catsuit.”

“I think the leather jacket would be a  _ paw _ -some touch,” he said matter-of-factly. “It would be better than a pair of heels. No offence, Ladybug.”

She scoffed. “Hey! Tikki worked hard to add these for me!”

Together, on top of the slick rooftop, they bickered. Then the bickering softened, and they kissed, and then they were talking again. It drizzled on and off while they were up there, but Chat Noir made sure to brush all the raindrops out of Ladybug’s hair — after flicking her with the water on his claws, of course.

“Hey, Ladybug,” he said after another drizzle, “this doesn’t have anything to do with me calling you short, right?” He gestured to her heels.

“What? No. I just thought I’d look good in them.”

“If you say so.” Chat Noir put an arm around her. “But just so you know, I adore your height.”

Ladybug looked up at him. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said, and pushed her hair from her brow. “It’s perfect. I can pick you up whenever I want.”

She frowned, but nonetheless, leaned closer to his chest. “I don’t need you to pick me up.”

He decided to ignore her. “I can put my chin on your head whenever I hug you.” His voice turned coy. “And I love when you get on your tiptoes to kiss me. It’s so cute.”

At the sudden rush of heat to her face, Ladybug almost jumped out of his arms. She opted to look away, instead, and cover her face with her hands. 

“Don’t be embarrassing, kitty,” she said.

Laughing, he took hold of one of her outstretched legs, and pulled her onto his thighs. She yelped — for one awful moment, her heel slipped on a shingle — but his grip on her was unfaltering. 

“And,” he said, “you can sit on my lap so easily. You’re the perfect size.”

If she blushed any harder, she was sure she would faint. Regardless of the heels, she would have tumbled down the roof faster than he could have caught her.

_ “Stoooop.” _

“My little bug.” He poked her nose. “The cutest.”

Looking down her legs, Ladybug began to wish she could kick off her heels. Tikki did exactly what Marinette wanted — the design even had the inner padding she imagined it to have — but she was feeling increasingly more ridiculous with them on. Sure, she did it to spite her boyfriend, which was a fantastic reason behind most of the things Ladybug did, anyway. But he was being so sweet about it… she almost didn’t see the point in it, anymore.

Chat Noir’s hand moved from her shoulder blades to the small of her back, and she knew she wouldn’t be dwelling on this much longer. She closed her eyes, and leaned in.

A massive crash echoed across the empty street. They both jolted, whipping their heads around, until people began milling onto the pavement and yelling,  _ “akuma!” _

Chat Noir shot to his feet, and pointed towards the boarded up restaurant. “I think it’s that way.”

“Alright.” She unwound her yo-yo. “Let’s go.”

But Ladybug was on a slick, slanted roof in seven-inch platform heels.

She stepped back, her stance solid for her to throw her arm back and latch her yo-yo onto something useful, when her heel finally gave in — she slipped. Down all the wet shingles, booted by the hard metal gutter, until Ladybug rolled off the rooftop all together and landed on her backside on the ground.

Her dignity hadn’t even taken a back seat. It left the entire vehicle. 

Chat Noir was looking down at her from the edge of the roof. “I take it the heels weren’t the best idea?”

Ladybug huffed, and crossed her arms.

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like it’s worth mentioning established relationship ladynoir is my weakness


End file.
